Salvation: The evil left my house


The evil was the all time champion of the most wanted to kill person by far from everyone else.

The evil was five years older than I am. That means when I was three the evil was eight. There was no way I could beat up the evil, or fight back the evil. Only thing I could was being the evil's slave.

One day the evil asked me to bring newspaper from outside post. Of course I resisted, and next thing happened was the evil hitting my stomach. One day I was watching TV, the evil came into the living room and changed TV channel without asking, so the other day, I changed channel when the evil was watching TV, the evil beat me up. One day, I brought my friend just to hand out a thing to him, but that day, my mom told me not to invite any friends to play inside the house. I thought it was ok to bring my friend just for a few minutes, but when the evil saw my friend, immediately, the evil kicked my pretty face. I can go on and on and on. I have zillions of stories like these.

There are two things I learned. One: Whether it hurt or not, I just cried when the evil hit me. That satisfied the evil's desire. Two: Don't talk to the evil. Don't go close to the evil. So I avoided the evil as much as I could, and I hardly ever talked to the evil unless the evil said something to me. I wonder if the evil dies, will I cry? I don't think I will. I cannot imagine me crying for the evil at the evil's funeral, but I can imagine me spitting on the evil's coffin.